


Keep On Fallin'

by resident_of_storybrooke



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, CSJJ, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Neighbors, Smut, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resident_of_storybrooke/pseuds/resident_of_storybrooke
Summary: Emma Swan may be a successful bail bondsperson, but when it comes to her love life not so much. After several failed blind dates Emma is ready to give up, but Mary Margaret convinces her to give it one more shot. Is Mr. One Shot going to be the one? Or is she willing to risk taking a chance with her blue eyed gorgeous neighbor?





	Keep On Fallin'

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot tell you all how relieved and proud I am to finally be posting my csjanuaryjoy. I have a million people to thank, just give me one moment. First, a massive shoutout to katie_dub and lenfaz for organizing all of this. A huge thank you (AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!) to my fantastic beta hollyethecurious, I cannot thank you enough for helping me on this. Of course, thank you to rouhn for also taking a look at this and answering every late night panicked message that this story gave me. Also, thank you artistic-writer, for trying to teach me the ways of smut, I still have a long way to go but thank you! Finally, thank you to aye-captn, kymbersmith-90, winterbaby89, and everyone else who encouraged me throughout this process! 
> 
> Please make sure to come say hi to me on tumblr (resident-of-storybrooke)!!! all the love ♥

“Emma please, just give it one more chance? I have a good feeling about this one!” Emma loved Mary Margaret, but her hopeless romantic of a friend had said that about the last three blind dates she had set her up on. Emma should have known when her friend was calling her during school hours that she had something up her sleeve, but alas, she answered the call anyway.

“Snow,” Emma heard her friend huff at the old childhood nickname Mary Margaret had tried to distance herself from, “I just don’t think now is the right time for me to be dating anyone. It’s post holidays which means everyone is either together, dealing with an awkward break-up, or realizing that their “fake date” that they brought home wasn’t fake and they’re in love with them. I’d really like to stay away from all of those clichés.”

“Oh, Emma, those walls of yours-”

“Keep me from getting hurt; I’m not going through that ever again.” Emma felt her throat get tense, and all of a sudden, she was holding back tears. She had not shed a tear over that man in years, and she would be damned if she ever did again, especially at work.

“I know why you keep those walls up, it keeps out the pain. What happened to you, Emma, it wasn’t fair and I know how badly he hurt you. But Emma...those walls, they may also keep out love.”

Emma just sat there in her office as her friend’s words sank in. It had been a long time since Emma had let anyone into her life, after everything with Neal it seemed like the best idea. That had been 13 years ago, of course, Emma scratched the itch whenever she needed to, but it never was anything more than that. Maybe one more shot at love wasn’t such a bad idea, David and Mary Margaret seemed happy, so did Ruby and Victor. Then Emma remembered why she stopped. Love had made her weak, it lowered her guards and that’s how she ended up in juvie. In addition, she thought she had gotten pregnant, but it turned out to be a false positive. Ever since she was released she tried to make something of herself; Emma was the most successful bail bondsperson in the area, she had a beautiful spacious apartment for her and her dog, Henry, and she had found friends she now called family. She would not let love wreck her again.

“Emma? You still there?” Mary Margaret broke Emma’s train of thought, she snapped back into the conversation with her friend.

“Yeah I’m still here.” Emma paused for a second; she knew Mary Margaret was waiting for her to say it.

“Listen, I wouldn’t feel the need to set you up if you would just make a move on Mr. 521 already!” Now she was playing dirty. Emma thought that was a low blow.

“You know, I regret telling you about him every day.” They both let out a short laugh; a smile once again graced Emma’s face. “It’ll never happen, besides he’s too good looking M’s, there’s bound to be something wrong with him.”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never seen him so I’ll have to trust your ridiculous assessment of him.” A few moments of silence rang between the friends, neither one willing to budge on their stance. “Emma…come on, pleaseeeee.” She sounded like one of her fourth graders begging for extra recess time, but Emma was immune to Mary Margaret by this point. Nevertheless, there was this little voice in the back of her own head egging her on.

Emma had a feeling she would regret it, but to hell with it. “Alright, I’m in.”

“Oh wait! You’ll go? Emma I’m so happy that you’re giving love a shot. I -”

“Oh no! I am not giving love a shot, I am giving this guy a shot. One shot. That’s it.” Her responses a bit shorter and sassier than she meant them come out. Emma just accepted her friend’s help, it was easier this way. “Tell me about him. What’s his name, what’s he do…?”

“Sorry, but for his protection I shan’t reveal his identity. I know you; you’ll use the system at work to look him up and try to come up with reasons why this wouldn’t work before you even meet him.”

“Mary Margaret, that is so not true. When have I ever-”

“Please don’t ask me to go there, because I will.” Emma noticed she had skipped over teacher’s voice right to mom voice. They may have been the same age, but Mary Margaret was part best friend and part mom to Emma at times. “Emma, I am not going to get into this with you. Just trust me okay?” Trust. There it was. Emma trusted Mary Margaret with her life. One date wouldn’t be so bad with Mr. One Shot.

The school bell rang on the other side of the phone, and though Emma knew their conversation was far from over, the women said their goodbyes, but not before Mary Margaret insisted that they get together at some point to finish talking about all of this.

The rest of Emma’s day went by in a blur; with the holiday season wrapping up, Emma’s busy season was just beginning. Skips stopped by their homes to get money, or were just sloppier in general. Emma had three perps she planned to collect by the end of the week. They all were simple pick-ups, none with any dangerous records, thankfully. She made contact with them, and all three fell for her date trap. Of course, they did.

The brisk Storybrooke air chilled Emma’s bones; regardless of her layers, it never seemed to be enough to keep her warm. She never understood how some women could wear light jackets in winter and look like they came off the runway. Emma looked more like a burrito buried under her black marshmallow of a winter coat, thick red wool scarf, and her beanie down to her eyebrows.

The only part of her exposed to the elements were her eyes, which was for her own safety. Her apartment complex was infamous for their lack of salting and shoveling skills. 

Emma buried her hands deeper into her coat, she was happy to have made it home without an incident. Emma had been lucky so far, this winter, only two near misses, no accidents yet. Making her way into the lobby without any incidents outside Emma considered that a small victory for her otherwise dull Tuesday.

While Emma grabbed her mail from the lobby, she saw him, Mr. 521. She didn’t know his real name, and probably never would because she was too chicken shit to talk to him. Emma had immediately noticed him the day he moved in just across the hall from her. All she knew about Mr. 521 was: he was British, he had no pets, he was some sort of food freak because his groceries always looked top of the line, and he held poker nights at his house on Saturday every three weeks. Nothing stalkerish about that sentence at all, she thought.

Oh, and he did something in the city, she figured, he was always dressed in a suit. She had seen him once in sweatpants down in the laundry room, and she nearly died. The suit was always well tailored, but these sweatpants left nothing to the imagination. Emma thanked her lucky stars on that faithful Thursday night that they were in there together, but wished their interaction had not been so embarrassing.

Emma was alone; well she thought she was alone in the laundry room. No one did laundry on a Thursday, okay no one with a life did laundry on a Thursday, and hence why Emma was there. She had decided to strip down to her Pearl Jam shirt and a pair of shorts that were completely covered by said shirt.

With her headphones in, she decided to risk it and, in the words of Meredith Grey, to “dance it out”. Emma put her phone on shuffle and as soon as “Blood in the Cut” by K.Flay came on, she lost herself. So much, she didn’t seem to notice when the dance party suddenly gained an audience member. Then she bumped into him.

“Fuck!” She turned around to see Mr. 521 with a warm wide smile gracing his face, while Emma felt her entire body turn bright red. The only thing she could do was take her basket and run. For some reason she thought it was a good idea to turn around before exiting the scene of the crime, when Emma looked back at him he had already turned around, but the smile never left his face.

She looked around the lobby; he was talking to the bellman, both laughing at the front desk. God, Emma could listen to that laugh on repeat, that soothing sound had only graced her ears a hand full of times.

Emma usually heard his laugh during poker night when he was amongst his friends, whom she believed were all from across the pond. In addition, much to Emma’s dismay, she heard it often when she would come home late after picking up a perp. She would like to assume he was on the phone with someone, but Emma was sure Mr. 521/ Mr. Tall-Dark-Handsome/ Mr. Eyes-Too-Blue-For-His-Own-Good was definitely a womanizer; he seemed like the type of man who knew how to play the field. As haunting as his laugh was, nothing compared to those aforementioned crystal blue eyes.

Haunting was a perfect word for him, he consumed her thoughts during the day, but mostly at night. Emma almost felt guilty for her not so innocent dreams about Mr. 521, but she couldn’t help it. She lived for the days when she got the chance to walk by him or see him across the hall with his friends. Again, she wasn’t a stalker, in her line of work she had to have a sharp eye. 

Eyes. 

Those damn eyes of his. 

Every elevator ride, every longing glance as she passed him in the lobby, she got lost in them. Emma was already a klutz; his beauty only expedited her clumsiness. Somehow, Emma had been able to keep her nerves at bay enough to have the ability to walk, but she knew she was pushing her luck most days.

Emma tried to play it cool as she walked across the lobby, but that didn’t last long when she failed to notice the wet floor sign and started to slip. She felt the floor come from under her, braced herself for impact, when all the sudden someone grabbed her.

Mr. 521 was holding her up.

Shit.

Emma tried to open her mouth but nothing was coming out. She just kept staring at him; she had never noticed the little red mark on his right cheek. Or that he smelled like salt form the sea, leather, and something...something she couldn’t put her finger on, yet.

“You alright there, lass?” His smile was the most beautiful thing Emma had ever seen, he was the most beautiful man Emma had ever seen. Words failed her, and it seemed that for a moment they failed Mr. 521. They kept staring into each other’s eyes when suddenly a not-so subtle cough from the bellman broke them from their trance.

Mr. 521 placed her back on her two feet as he asked her if she was okay, again. Emma’s eyes went wide, forgetting his previous question for a moment. Her skin was still on fire, although she was wearing her thick coat, that didn’t seem to be the reason for her blush. No, in fact it was his eyes, boring into her as if he would find his answer in them, they were hypnotic like.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Damn wet floors. I thought I was safe after not slipping outside, but it seems as though I was wrong.” Emma paused, she could feel her cheeks still burning ever so brightly, trying to stop herself from shouting something idiotic she bit her tongue, drawing her lips into a thin line. When he let out a heartfelt laugh and she saw his tongue wet his lips Emma’s willpower lost. Shocker.

“You know that wet floor signs were first used by the Romans around 220 BC? Yeah, but they weren’t formally used until around the 17th century, a lot of historians say it was due to British Empire and floors becoming more mainstream…and I’m rambling I’m going to stop talking now.”

“Why, love? I for one am very grateful for the lesson, I’m sure Mr. Smee is as well. Isn’t that right, Mr. Smee?” He looked over to the bellman who had already moved back to reading his newspaper, clearly not entertained by this conversation at all. “Right, well as I said I enjoyed it, Miss…?” Emma’s brain, or lack thereof, was still not functioning properly, still fogged from their close encounter. Finally, after a few moments she realized what he was waiting for, still nervous her voice would fail her, she decided to keep introductions to a minimum.

“Swan. Emma Swan, I live in-”

“522, I know. I’m Killian Jones at your service, love.”

“Oh, such a gentleman.” Emma didn’t mean to come off sarcastic, but it was just her natural reaction to guys too charming for their own good.

Killian leaned in closer to Emma so that there was barely any space between them, his tongue grazed across his bottom lip once more. “I’m always a gentleman, love.” To sell it Killian added a wink for good measure. Emma didn’t know how much the human body could blush, but she had a feeling she was nearing the limit. 

He reached out his right hand, which for some reason directed Emma’s attention to his left hand, which was still concealed by a black glove. Emma reached her hand out to meet his and felt it. This strange pull or connection she had felt when Mr. 5-Killian had saved her from falling. Emma didn’t believe in signs or fate or anything like that, that was Mary Margaret’s territory, but she couldn’t shake this feeling.

“Well, I was about to head upstairs, shall we sail away, love?” Who spoke like that? This guy was obviously one of a kind, Emma had a feeling she would really like that. They made their way to the elevator, Emma walked ahead of him and she had the distinct feeling that he was checking her out. Gentlemen my ass, she thought, but for some reason the idea didn’t bother her. When she turned around, she found he was, alas, on his phone and not checking her out like she, for some strange reason, had hoped.

The elevator ride up was short and silent; the tension between them was thick. Emma couldn’t get the feelings of his arms around her out of her mind, her heart racing at the idea of his arms around her again, just with much less clothing. Emma knew she needed to get a grip, she had only just learned his name, it’s not as if he’s going to jump her in the elevator like in Grey’s Anatomy.

She looked over at him, he was glaring at his phone now, and whatever he was reading troubled him for some reason. Emma thought about asking him about it, but decided she did not want to push her luck.

“Apologies lass, a woman as beautiful as you deserves my full attention.” He quickly stuffed his phone back into his coat pocket. “So, I’ve been here for five months now, and this is only our second encounter. What keeps you so busy, love?”

Emma looked over to glare at him, forcing her to remember their horrible laundry room encounter, but when she met his eyes, she could tell he was being sincere. He truly wanted to know about her, a small smirk quickly replaced the snarl that was about to cover her face.

It’s not that she minded telling people her profession, she was proud of it, but the responses were what annoyed her. Usually people stopped listening after bondsperson, saying they didn’t know women were in that line of work. If they got past that sexist remark, they typically said something along the lines of “isn’t that too dangerous?” or “you’re like the secretary right, like you don’t actually go get the guys?” Their office manager was actually a guy, an older gentleman named Graham. Besides, Emma didn’t mind the danger aspect of her job, she actually lived for it, which gave Mary Margaret many heart attacks and a few phone calls from the ER when a perp tried to fight back. Intrigued by how he might respond, Emma decided to finally tell him.

“I’m a bail bondsperson.” Unable to read him Emma continued. “I’ve been doing it for little over ten years now; usually I work nights so I sleep during the day for the most part.” He still hadn’t said anything, or done that eyebrow thing Emma’s noticed he did every now and then. Killian just stood there

“Tough lass. What’s your favorite part of the job?” Once again, when Emma looked at him she could see Killian was genuinely curious. Before Emma could give him an answer, the elevator doors dinged and opened onto their floor. Killian motioned for Emma to walk out ahead of him. They made it to Emma’s door first, and both awkwardly stopped in front of it.

“Well, this is me.” Emma was never one for small talk and with the look in his eyes right then Emma had half a mind to invite him inside, but decided against it. “Sorry, I’d invite you for some coffee, but my place is a bit of a mess. Not that I’m typically a messy person, I’m what you would call averagely neat. The last case I was working on was a bit of a ringer and I...I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Emma started to tense up, realizing that this was the second time within the last ten minutes she had rambled in front of her gorgeous neighbor.

“Well love, I guess we’ll just have to wait until next time.” Before Emma could embarrass herself any further, he reached for her right hand, placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, and turned towards his apartment. Emma stood there, stunned in complete shock. Finally, after a few moments she regained the ability to process the fact that she needed to change before her date with perp #1 of the week.

When she made her way into the apartment, an overly affectionate Henry, her favorite thing to come home to, greeted her. Emma knew she didn’t have a lot of time to spare, so she figured she would get ready for her date and then take Henry out before she had to leave. She rushed to her bedroom already deciding that tonight’s date felt like The Black Dress type of night.

Out of all of her dresses for these dates she seemed to wear this one the least. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. Emma liked the way the faux snake skin hugged her curves, and it was short, which gave the effect of her legs going on for miles. Emma let her hair fall naturally past her shoulders, and kept the make-up to a minimum. At risk of freezing she decided to stick with her red winter coat, she looked at the clock and saw she had plenty of time to take Henry outside.

Emma and Henry hurried down the stairs (she was trying to tire him out as much as possible) to the frigid night. Emma didn’t know how it was possible for it to get so cold so fast after being outside no more than an hour ago. As Henry finished his business, Emma pulled out her phone to see a missed text message from Mary Margaret.

(5:30 pm) MM: Your date is Friday. Reservation was made for 7pm at Mamma Maria on 3rd N Square.

(6:36 pm) Emma: How did you get that reservation?! It’s nearly impossible unless you know someone!

(6:37 pm) MM: Lucky for you, I do. I know the owner rather well, old friend of David’s from college. 

(6:39 pm) Emma: Anything else you want to tell me mom?

(6:40 pm) MM: He’s nervous...be nice!!!!

Emma chuckled to herself as she turned around to bring Henry back inside. Of course with her putting her phone away Emma wasn’t paying attention and bulldozed right into someone.

“Shit, sorry!”

“Bloody hell!” The accent, of course she ran into him. Taking a step back to try and give him space Emma failed to notice the ice and tried to keep her balance without looking too much like a fool. Killian was able to grab onto her arms and help steady her as she moved off the ice patch.

“Killian, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He was laughing, probably at her, which seemed completely fair in this scenario. “What’s so funny, Mr. Jones?”

“Well, twice in one day, love,” Emma’s head turned to the side trying to understand, “Twice that I had the honor of saving you.” Emma had seen his smile before, but this was no smile, no, it was a smolder. Her knees felt as though they were about to give out on her again and the blush began to spread across her face.

“Yeah, well, thank you, Killian.” Emma was surprised her voice didn’t show any signs of how affected she was since the rest of her body seemed to betray her every time she was around him.

“Is that all your life is worth to you?” Emma wasn’t sure if she heard right, her eyes were blown wide. At first glance, Emma could see the charming womanizer she believed him to be, but she could also see the doubt that crept in, that he was merely playing a part. It was a bone-chilling gust of wind that reminded Emma she hadn’t buttoned her jacket, blowing her coat wide open revealing the dress. She saw his Adam’s apple bob, he brought his right hand to the back of his ear, and the smolder broke. As he finished looking her up and down she couldn’t help but see the frown that appeared upon his otherwise beautiful face.

“Ah, right. Well, it seems as though you have an important evening ahead of you. Shouldn’t keep them waiting. Have a good night, Swan.” As quickly as he appeared he was gone again storming off down the street. Confused to say the least, Emma realized she was about to be late for her pick up and hurried back into the building to drop Henry off.

Perp #1, also known as Walsh Ozman, missed his court date after his wife helped bail him out. He was wanted for insider trading, but if you asked Emma, it didn’t seem like the guy was smart enough for such a scheme to have gone on for five years. He wasn’t ugly, but she couldn’t shake the notion that he reminded her of a monkey. Maybe it was the way he picked the fallen hair off her dress as she sat - that was strike one.

The guy talked a big game, made himself the CEO of his own startup company saying that his product was going to be in stores everywhere, he was going to change the world, blah blah blah. Emma took a sip of wine to try to dull the otherwise painful interaction, and thought about Killian’s reaction. She thought for a moment that perhaps he was jealous, but that couldn’t be it.

After ten minutes of talking about himself, Walsh finally stopped, and waited for Emma to ask him a question. Emma realized early on that no free meal was worth the pain of staying in his company.

“So Walsh,” Emma batted her eyes at him to sell the facade if only for a few more moments, “I have a confession to make. I’m not interested in dinner with you, I have this fantasy you see.” Walsh licked his bottom lip and smirked at her, a lackluster smirk compared to a certain neighbor of her’s. He nodded at her, wanting her to continue disclosing whatever convoluted notion he thought she was going to say.

“You see, I want to take you to my car, put some handcuffs on you,...and turn you into the police.” 

His face dropped and he became ghost white. “You’re a bail bondsman?”

Emma shrugged. “Bail bondsperson.” 

As predicted, he flipped the table and ran outside. It wasn’t hard to catch up with him due to his car being booted, and he was in too much of a panic to make any moves. For a guy who talked a big game during dinner he sure cried a lot sooner than Emma thought he would. She dropped him off at the station, collected her pay, and decided to call it an early Tuesday night.

Emma cursed herself for foregoing warmth for style as she walked into the lobby of her apartment building. The marble floor was glistening, but it seemed as though Mr. Smee had failed to put out the wet floor signs again. Carefully Emma made her way through the lobby and over to the elevator. When she walked by Killian’s door, she still wasn’t used to calling him by name, she could hear the sound of a faint guitar on the other side.

Emma knew that eavesdropping on her neighbor was just another tick in the stalker column for her, but she couldn’t help it, the song sounded familiar. As soon as the verse started, she recognized the song immediately, he was singing “Blood in the Cut”, the same damn song she’d been listening to in the laundry room when they first met.

His version, however, had a slower tempo, he sounded gutted. Emma closed her eyes and pretended she was in there with him, watching him stroke his guitar and gaze into her eyes as he did twice already today. Almost as if he were a siren leading her to death, she got closer to the door without even thinking, she just wanted to hear him. Taking one more step closer Emma kicked the door by accident seemingly breaking everyone’s concentration. A confused hello left Killian’s mouth; she could hear him put his guitar down as if he were coming to the door. Emma rushed to her side of the hallway, unlocked her door, and then slammed it behind her. Emma stood there silently as she heard Killian’s door creak open slowly. Emma realized she hadn’t been breathing and finally exhaled her nervous energy.

“Swan, I can see your shadow, love. Come out?” At first, he sounded so confident and teasing, but when he asked her to come out, she could her the shakiness in his voice. At risk of further embarrassing herself in front of him, she decided to open the door back up to a confused Killian. 

“What’s the matter, love? If you wanted a private audience with me, all you had to do is ask. I seem to remember you rather fancy that song, maybe you could remind me of some of those dance moves.” Emma couldn’t believe this guy, he went from cocky asshole to nervous teenager right back to shameless flirt in the matter of moments. Failing to come up with a witty response, Emma merely rolled her eyes and let out a huff.

Killian stepped closer, invading her personal space. “Why are you home so early, lass? Shouldn’t you be on that date of yours?” He popped the “t” in date, the bitterness stung.

Emma was right! He was jealous of Emma’s date. She realized she could play this a few ways, but remembered how shitty it felt for someone to mess with her head, so she decided to be honest with him.

“It wasn’t a date,” that got his attention real fast, “well I had a date, but it was to pick up a perp not a real date. God, I couldn’t tell you the last time I went on a real successful date, it’s been ages since I’ve had a good one of those. By those, I mean date, not the other thing, because I can get that. Not that I want that or that I get it a lot, but like I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Really Killian, you need to stop me one of these times. Any time would be good, like-”

“Swan.” 

“Yeah?”

“Stop if you wish love, but I, however, am really enjoying these ramblings of yours. I take it they don’t occur often for you?” Killian moved to the side, and without a second thought, Emma entered Killian’s apartment. It looked warm, like how a home should look.

“No, it seems as though you bring it out in me.” He scratched his ear again; a nervous habit that might have been the most adorable thing she had ever seen. It was nice to see Mr. 521 as a human and not just the idealistic hot neighbor of hers.

“So would you be willing to tell me about this date?” He used air quotes around the word date, which made Emma laugh, and she swore she heard Killian say beautiful under his breath. Killian handed Emma a cup of hot chocolate, but it had whipped cream and cinnamon on top. Emma eyed him, hoping he would understand that she was asking for an explanation.

“Ah that, well, although today was our first formal meeting, Emma,” the way he said her name sounded like sin, “I’m actually quite perceptive. I may have seen you with a Starbucks cup or two with that order.” He was looking down at his own cup, scared to meet her eyes. At first it made Emma nervous that he had been so observant of her, but then she realized all of the little tidbits she had picked up from him through her peephole.

They were sitting on his couch together, a cushion width apart. Emma wasn’t sure how to act around him so she figured it was best to finally answer his question about the date.

“Walsh, that’s who I had the date with tonight, he was wanted for insider trading and skipped town after his wife helped bail him out. He talked non-stop about himself for the first part of the date, all lies of course. Extremely egotistical, and too full of himself for my taste, I don’t know how his wife put up with him for the last fifteen years.”

“And what is your taste, Swan?” During her short explanation of the date Killian seemed to have moved closer to her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Emma was proud of her quick-witted remark, she felt as though she finally had gained the upper hand.

“Perhaps, I would.” Killian scooted closer to her, bowed his head, and gazed upon her through his long eyelashes. They sat there in silence for only a moment, Emma wanted to run under his scrutiny, but was paralyzed. They didn’t break eye contact, neither one moved for what seemed like minutes. All of a sudden a pot must’ve fallen from the sink and the sound broke them from their trance. They both jumped back, awkwardly fidgeting with a watch and wrinkles that weren’t there. 

Emma cleared her throat. “I meant to ask you earlier, what do you do? I told you about my job, I feel as though it’s only fair you tell me about yours.”

“Too right love, good form and all. So I am a chef, I work at one of those fancy big-wig places where people pay way too much for food they could get for half the price if they went a few blocks north.” They had made their way over to the kitchen, Killian tried to clean up the soapy mess the fallen pot had made on his floor. Emma stood on the other side of the island, refusing to slip for the third time today in front of him.

“You don’t seem to like it very much, do you?” Killian whipped his head around and found a nervous Emma drinking her hot chocolate. She realized she may have crossed a line with that comment, they barely knew each other and here she was prying.

“Aye, that I don’t, but it’s the best I could get on such short notice. Moving here was a spur of the moment decision, I just wanted a job that wasn’t bartending.” Killian turned his attention back to the dishes; Emma enjoyed the view that action gave her. It felt weirdly domestic and normal between the two of them. Emma sat there and watched him clean up, imagining him doing so after making them a delicious dish they might share together. Deciding to push her luck, Emma walked over to the sink with him. He washed, she dried, and again the feeling of domesticity struck her unlike ever before.

After finishing, they moved back to the couch with their now cold chocolates and just talked. Nothing too deep or personal, but talked about their interests, Emma’s ability or lack thereof when it came to cooking, and shared weird stories about the other tenants. There was never a moment of awkward silence between the two of them, everything felt natural and just flowed almost too perfectly.

Emma looked over at the clock and realized how late it was getting, Killian had a normal job, which meant normal hours and probably wanted to get to bed sooner rather than later. The thing was Emma did not want to leave, that connection she had felt earlier in the lobby and outside, when Killian had caught her, was still there.

“Well you’ll probably want to be getting to bed soon,” Emma said as she pointed at the clock on the wall. “Thank you, Killian, for the hot chocolate...and for perhaps saving my life earlier today.” A wide smile overcame Killian’s face, Emma laughed and broke their eye contact.

“Twice love; I saved your life twice.”

“Don’t push it, mister.” Emma tried to keep a straight face, but when Killian started laughing, she couldn’t help but join him. 

He walked her to the door and then a new fear hit Emma. How was she supposed to say goodnight to him? A hug? A handshake? What was appropriate for whatever they were? What were they now? Neighbors, acquaintances, or friends? It seemed as though Killian started to feel the same ping of anxiety because he just stood there with her by the closed door waiting for someone to make a move.

Emma decided for them. She went in for a hug, and at the last minute decided to give him a kiss on his cheek. She had no idea where that boldness had come from; she seemed to have stunned Killian from the display of affection as well.

“For earlier, saving my life. Twice. And I guess the company wasn’t too bad.” As Emma made her way out of his apartment Killian grabbed her arm, Emma nearly jumped out of her skin at the foreign contact. He realized he must have struck a nerve and immediately released her.

“Same time tomorrow, love?” His voice timid, and when his eyes met hers she couldn’t help but smile.

“Perhaps,” throwing his word back at him, “I have another pick-up tomorrow. I don’t know what time I’ll be home from it.”

“Aye, well, they invented these lovely things called cell phones; do you know their history as well, Swan?” She shook her head no, which wasn’t a complete lie, but she figured one lesson about wet floor signs was enough for the day. Killian gave Emma his phone and she punched her number in, then turned back to her apartment.

“Oh, and Swan? You look beautiful, love. Good night.” He reached for her hand and placed a soft kiss upon her knuckles again. Damn him, his accent, and his eyes and...well everything about him.

Emma walked into her apartment and found her phone she had left on the counter with 4 missed texts and two very long voicemails from Mary Margaret. Shit, she was always supposed to check-in with her after a pick-up. The voicemails were supposed to be one message, but Mary Margaret had gone on for so long Emma’s phone cut it in half.

(9:30 pm) MM: Hey let me know when you get home, okay? I know you’re picking up a perpetrator tonight. Good luck!!

(10:18 pm) MM: Emma. Where are you? Usually you’re done by now! PLEASE CALL ME!!

(11:06 pm) MM: EMMA RUTH SWAN I SWEAR IF YOU DON’T CALL ME RIGHT THIS MINUTE I AM GOING TO THE ER, THEN POLICE STATION, THEN BACK TO THE ER BECAUSE I AM GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS AFTER I FIND YOU.

(12:36 am) MM: Dear perp, you obviously have hold of my dear friend Emma Swan, because that is the only reason her soon-to-be-dead ass would not text me back. Could you please let her know I hate her right now, and she needs to call me or David right away. If you could drop her off at her apartment or mine that would be appreciated. Thank you perpetrator.

Emma figured it was best to call her at this point, regardless the medium this conversation was going to be painful. Emma saw that it was a little after one in the morning, and although Mary Margaret had school the next day, Emma knew she’d still be up waiting to hear from her.

“Mary Mar-”

“EMMA RUTH! Where have you been? Are you okay? Do I need to come get you from the ER? God I was just kidding about putting you in the ER!” Emma just figured it was best to let her friend tire herself out; Mary Margaret went on for a bit more before finally taking a breath.

“M’s I’m sorry, I am. I’m home safe, I’ve been home for a while now. I just-”

“You’ve been home for a while and you never thought to text me? Emma we have a deal, after everything that’s happened you’re supposed to check-in with me.” She could hear the raw emotion behind her friend’s words; Mary Margaret had been worried sick about Emma.

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry I should’ve brought my phone with me.”

“Brought it where, Emma?” Sadness had left, now full-blown curiosity coated Mary Margaret’s words.

“I was...with Mr. 521, and no, before you go there nothing happened! We were just talking, that’s it! I slipped a few times today, and he happened to be there to catch me. Then when I came home tonight I could…” Emma realized “creepily listening to him sing through his door” was not the best wording. “He was coming out and he dropped something so I helped him bring it into his apartment.”

“You were with Mr. 521 for that long?” God, Emma swore her friend sometimes had the maturity level of some of her fourth graders. 

“Oh nonononono! You know what? It’s late, and you have school in the morning young lady. This conversation is over, forever! Good night!” Emma could hear Mary Margaret’s protests as she hung up and realized there was a 50/50 chance she would call her back. Banking on it being so late and the fact, that Mary Margaret would have to wake up in a few hours Emma took her chances.

When Emma went to bed that night her dreams were of a certain blue-eyed neighbor, more vivid than any dream she’d had before. Emma remembered how his accent captured her attention; the way that he told stories was moving, as if you were there with him. She dreamt that he was there with her; she swore she could almost smell him.

All the sudden Emma heard a noise from outside of her bedroom, and immediately grabbed her firearm. As she creeped through her bedroom, she could see a tall dark figure closing the front door. Emma waited to see what the intruder wanted. The intruder kept looking down the different hallways; they were looking for a specific room. Emma wasn’t really the sentimental type, it wasn’t like she had family heirlooms laying around the apartment, that would require her to have a family. 

The intruder made their way to Emma’s bedroom, for some reason Emma was frozen and all thoughts about attacking the unwanted guest went out the window. Finally, she heard him whisper her name, and she dropped the gun.

“Killian?! What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were an intru-” He reached out and cut her off with a kiss. Emma lost all train of thought having his lips finally on her’s. They were as soft as Emma imagined them to be after he kissed her hand. However, soft and gentle was not on Killian’s mind, he was a man on a quest. Both turning their heads to deepen the kiss, not a word spoken between them, unless you counted grunts. 

Emma felt his hands roaming underneath her cami, she merely nodded granting him permission to remove the layer. Killian soon lost his shirt, Emma stood there in awe of his body. Emma typically was not one for chest hair, but on Killian it was just so sexy. Emma explored his newly exposed chest, running her hands through his forest of hair. Killian kissed his way down Emma’s neck, he stopped and sucked on her pulse point. 

“Clothes...off...please..this is how I wanted to say goodnight to you...” Killian panted. 

Emma, once again, was proud to see she had an effect on him as well, and both stripped what remained on them in record time. Killian pushed Emma back onto the bed. She felt self-conscious for a moment, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw it again. Hope. 

“Is this really happening? God, I’ve been waiting for this moment for such a long time, Killian.” In that moment, Emma realized she wanted more than just a quick fuck, but she couldn’t say it aloud yet. Killian at some point had rolled on a condom; he lined himself up with her soaking entrance. He was bigger than she was used to. Excitement, fear, nerves, all rushed through her. Then he opened up his mouth and said… 

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Fuck. 

Killian wasn’t there. It was just a fucking dream. The best dream she had in years. When Emma woke up she could feel her body aching in need of some relief. Emma didn’t know why she felt so guilt ridden for using Killian as her fantasy, maybe it was the fact she knew him now and saw there was more to Mr. 521 than she thought before.

Emma made her way into the shower and decided to take matters into her own hands. She tried to remember the dream, how it had felt yesterday being held in his arms. When she finally came she let out an embarrassingly loud moan, frightened that someone (specifically Killian) heard it. 

When Emma checked her phone, and found no text from Killian, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Maybe she had read too far into their encounters yesterday. She shook her head and decided to focus on her two perps she needed to pick up.

Emma was ready for this week to be over. She didn’t mind the busy season, it meant that even for a while she didn’t have to worry about her finances, something she struggled with most of her life. She looked forward to having a relaxing Friday evening to herself. Then she remembered, Mary Margaret had set her up on that blind date on Friday. Emma wasn’t thrilled with the idea of Mr. One Shot, but she’d do anything to appease Mary Margaret after everything her and David had done for Emma.

She enjoyed her rare day at home; Emma decided to spend the day cleaning. She couldn’t shake the feeling like it was something that needed to get done. Her apartment wasn’t a mess per se, but it was not presentable to outside company besides the Nolan’s. She had her Alexa on full blast, as she cleaned the apartment. Emma had put on her Bachelorette Party Radio from Pandora and had her own dance cleaning party, it helped pass the time.

After scrubbing every inch of her apartment, Emma jumped in the shower for the second time that day. Unfortunately, unlike the previous shower, Emma did not have time to dream of her irresistible neighbor. For tonight’s outfit Emma decided to go with The Other Black Dress, it was softer and more casual. Her hair proved to be a worthy opponent, but Emma figured with the wind to just let it fall as it wished.

Perp number two, AKA August Woodson, was more of a loose cannon than the other two. He had a bit of a rap sheet. His latest incident involved public intoxication, failing to cooperate, and then, of course, failing to show up for his court date. When Emma set up their date she made sure not to do it in a bar, and she got there before he did to. Emma wanted to try to keep count of the drinks he had to get a better idea of whom she was up against.

Unlike her previous night, she was not able to boot his car because Woodson took public transportation. The date was short lived when Emma could see him becoming increasingly on edge, and he reeked of alcohol. Once her cover was blown, Woodson ran. They always did. 

Emma didn’t mind the chase, she wore her flats purposely tonight, she had a feeling he’d be a runner. It seemed as though the alcohol didn’t affect him as much as she thought because he was still a few strides ahead of her. She was inches from catching him when she collided with a bicyclist. She heard Woodson say a smartass remark and he continued to flee.

Emma brushed herself off and decided to call it a night. By the time Emma’s Uber dropped her off at her place she had received a text from dispatch that said Ruby was able to catch August. Ruby offered to split some of the reward with her, she was a kind soul, but she didn’t feel as though she earned her cut.

Already feeling some stiffness from her collision Emma decided to forego the stairs and take the elevator up to her place. As she walked off the elevator, she remembered that Killian wanted to see her after she got home. She made her way over to Killian’s door and was about to knock, but then remembered he didn’t text her, and after her shitty night she decided to just go to sleep.

Emma made her way over to the medicine cabinet and took some Tylenol to help with the pain. She texted Mary Margaret that she was home safe, leaving out the part of the fall because there was no need to worry her over something so minor. Feeling sorry for herself, Emma crashed on the couch with Henry. Before exhaustion overtook her, she swore she heard someone knock at the door, but Emma was sure she’d imagined it..

When Emma woke up she felt empty, unlike the night prior she did not dream of her sexy neighbor. In fact, Emma hadn’t dreamt at all last night. What kind of psychological bullshit is this, she thought. Emma made her way over to the door to get ready to take Henry out when she saw a piece of paper that had been slid underneath her door.

Swan,

I know the note is a bit old school, but alas so am I. You see, I learned a valuable lesson about keeping my phone near the window ledge. I apologize for the lack of texts; I know you must be going crazy without my constant wit. I wanted to tell you all of this in person last night once you returned from your “date”, but you never came by. I hope that your trap was successful and that you made it home safely. I know, lass, you are a tough one, but still I would despair if I could no longer bother you. It seems as though you have bewitched me, love.

Come over tonight? I have off the next few days so I do not care how late it is. I would really enjoy your company again.

Your Captain,  
Killian A. Jones

Emma laughed at the formality in his signature. She remembered him telling her he owned a ship, and with his love for Peter Pan she had started calling him Captain Hook by the end of the night. The laughter was short lived, however. Emma was stunned to find this heartfelt note after just one encounter. What threw her more into shock was that she did not want to run, in fact, she was looking forward to seeing him later that night.

Emma’s Thursday went by in a blur. After taking Henry out, Emma went to the office. With her anticipation growing in seeing Killian later she had a feeling her day would drag on, but thank the gods it did not. Graham had even made a comment on how Emma seemed a little too excited for her pick up tonight. Emma tried to play it off and said she was anxious to make up for last night’s mistake.

When Emma made her way to her apartment she was upset that she hadn’t run into Killian since the other night, especially now after his note. She prayed that this would be a quick pick-up, no games or anything tonight, she was just going to cuff him on the spot. 

Emma put on The Red Dress. This was by far the sexiest dress out of the mix she owned, only to be taken out for special cases. Jefferson, perp three, seemed like the type of guy who would approve of Emma’s look, not that she actually cared what he thought. 

Just as Emma walked out her door she received a text on her burner phone. She only gave that number to her potential pickups. When Emma looked at the message it was Jefferson cancelling their dinner, he was sick. He did however reschedule for next week, Emma laughed at the man who unknowingly was sealing his own fate. 

Against her better judgement, Emma decided to go over to Killian’s before she changed. She figured that she would never get the chance to go out on a date with him, why not show him what he’s missing. Emma walked over to his door, took a deep breath, and knocked. She felt something she hadn’t felt in a while, nerves. Emma heard Killian holler that he would be there in a minute, and somehow hearing his voice soothed her even just for a moment. 

While she waited, she started to play with her hands, running her fingers over the tattoo she had gotten on her left wrist all those years ago. It was a Clematis Patens, it was the first tattoo Ruby ever gave right after receiving her license. Emma began to reminisce on the years past since meeting Ruby, Victor, Mary Margaret, and David. She had come so far from being the little lost girl, she still struggled with her demons, but Emma was proud of the person she had become. 

All of a sudden, Killian opened the door and all the oxygen seemed to have left the hallway. Killian apparently had been busy during his off day. Here he was, not in his normal suit, but instead something more delicious. Killian was wearing black, body hugging jeans, and a black floral shirt, that one might have considered to be a button up, if he had bothered to button the several at the top. He completed the look with a black vest, and Emma could see a black leather jacket thrown over the sofa. As Emma ogled at the man in front of her, she noticed Killian’s ears turning a bright shade of pink. She was happy to notice she wasn’t the only one affected by the other’s presence. 

“You look stunning, Swan.”

“You look-”

“I know.” Usually Emma would be irritated at such a narcissistic comment, but for some reason she found his bravado refreshing. Killian motioned for Emma to come inside, and once again Emma entered his home without a second thought. 

“I didn’t expect you so early Swan. I thought you said something about this evening’s activities not starting until… now?” 

“Yeah well turns out I’m just as good as fake dates as I am with real ones. The guy postponed it until next week.” Emma didn’t think much of the discourse until she saw Killian clench his jaw. 

“Any man, who’d pass up on a date with you Swan, is an utter fool.” Emma was used to his flirtatious manner by this point, except when she met his eyes she saw something different. The truth. He didn’t mean it as a line, he was being sincere. Part of Emma wanted to run for the hills (well across the hall to her apartment), she wasn’t used to men being so caring. She knew Killian was different deep down, but she just couldn’t take the chance that she was wrong about him.

“You seem vexed, love. Would you care for a drink?” Emma shuffled into the apartment, trying to take in more of the decoration to learn more about her neighbor. 

She told him she would take whatever he had. When they sat on the couch Emma made sure to sit on the opposite end from him, as if the physical distance represented her mental distance from him. Killian let out a soft sigh, he seemed to have pieced together why Emma was at the other end. He handed Emma her glass and brought the bottle over to the coffee table.

“Rum? You really are a pirate.” 

“Aye, perhaps I am, love. And what does that make you? The breathtaking princess?” There it is again, Emma thought. That look of sincerity in his eyes, of hope. He and Mary Margaret would get along so well. 

As the night went on they both unconsciously, or maybe consciously for a certain blue eyed someone, gravitated towards each other. While one shared a story the other would innocently reach out and touch the other, both lingering a bit longer with each passing caress. Emma wished she could have blamed it on the rum, but a few hours in they were both only on their second glass. There wasn’t time to drink, they were both too busy talking. This conversation seemed to be following the same pattern as Tuesday’s, and Emma thought she could live with this. She could just be Killian Jones’ friend.

Liar. 

She already was taken by him. If her dream the other night weren’t proof enough, the way he looked at her now nearly did her in. 

Killian was caught up in the middle of a story about a time he and his brother went fishing. He had fallen in, and Liam being the hero that he was, saved him. Emma didn’t miss how Killian said was and the sadness in his eyes whenever he talked about his brother. She also didn’t miss the tattoo on his wrist that held a name. 

“If I haven’t said it yet, I apologize, but you look gorgeous, Emma.” Emma saw the tops of his ears turn pink, which was perfect because they matched her blush filled cheeks. “Truly you do. I love your dress, but I’ve been meaning to ask you about this.” Killian had pointed to her swan necklace, Emma honestly had forgotten all about it. “Where did you find it, love?” 

Emma didn’t remember a time before the necklace, nor had she taken it off since. She brought her hands to the chain and started playing with the pendant absentmindedly. Emma couldn’t remember the last time she had even touched the necklace.

“Swan, Emma I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pick at old wounds.” Emma sat there still in silence, the necklace felt like it was burning a hole in her skin now; it’s all she could feel. The rush of fear whipped through Emma. Those all wounds hadn’t seemed to have healed as Emma thought. 

“I lost Liam a few years ago...it was the hardest thing I had ever experienced. You see he raised me, our mum died during my birth. Our father, if you could really call him that, was heartbroken when she died. He left us. Liam was my best mate, I looked up to him. Even if he was a stubborn arse, he was my hero. I had plans to follow him into the Royal Navy, but, uh, he went on a special mission. He gave his life to save the twelve other men he served with. He even died with honor.” Emma could hear the pain in his voice; she reached out and grabbed his right hand. He lifted his eyes to her and she gave a quick squeeze. She waited for him; it looked like he had more he wanted to share. She knew how hard it was to disclose her past; she wouldn’t dare stop someone from sharing their story. As Emma held his hand her eyes couldn’t help but wonder to the tattoo on his wrist. 

“Her name was Milah.” Killian said barely whispering at this point, he looked down at his wrist. “I was very young and stupid, and I was in love with her. We had met back when I moved England; I still hadn’t finished mourning Liam’s death.”

“Killian you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He stared at her, after a few moments a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

“Aye, but I want to tell you everything.” Emma nodded to let him continue his heartbreaking tale without letting go of his hand.

“She was beautiful, so full of life. She made me believe in my crazy rock and roll dreams, that I could make it as a singer. She said she knew some people, didn’t know she meant her bloody husband.” Killian spat out that last bit, Emma could see the tension rise in his shoulders, so she moved closer and put her arm around him. She had read that hugging someone helped release chemicals in the brain to calm them. It seemed to have worked and Killian was able to get his breathing back to normal.

“But I was young, and she kept saying she was going to leave him. So, I stayed with her. I had plans to propose to her, ring and all. I had this whole plain of how we would run away, start our new life.” A smile creeped upon his face, it was something Emma hadn’t seen since he started sharing his past. Emma was happy to see amongst all the pain, he still had fond memories. 

“Then, everything went to hell. We were late for our reservation and it started this fight, which just opened up the floodgates. We started screaming at each other in the car. I was so mad I didn’t see the semi that failed to stop at the light. The last thing I remember is her saying she never loved me, and I told her I never wanted to see her again. When I woke up, they told me she was gone, and I would be lucky to regain any use of this bastard of a hand ever. I just...I should have...” 

He was crying by this point, Emma tried to console him as best as she could, but his tears never seemed to stop. His breathing was all over the place, he was having a panic attack. She tried to bear hug him now, but nothing worked.

“Killian, look at me, hey come on, look at me.” His eyes never met hers; he kept looking all over the place trying to regain his breath. “Killian, you’re okay, it’s okay.” She looked down and saw his left hand, gloveless for the first time. His hand was discolored by a variety of scars; it was like he couldn’t make a fist his fingers were completely straight. 

“Killian do you trust me?” He barely nodded, but had given her permission. She leaned in and kissed him. This wasn’t how she expected their first kiss to go, but Emma wanted to help him. It didn’t last long, it wasn’t passionate by any means. Killian’s eyes were blown wide at first, but then he slowly closed them. Emma pulled away from him after a few moments slowly trying to gage his reaction.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Why… how did that work?” 

“When you’re having a panic attack, it’s your body’s way of saying you have too much oxygen in you. So when... when I kissed you, you held your breath and it evened itself out. I’m sorry if that crossed a line, I just know what it’s like to have them and I wanted to help you.” Emma opened up her arms and Killian leaned into her embrace. They sat like that for while in silence, both comforted by the other.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate you sharing your story with me, but I’m confused. Why are you telling me all of this, Killian?”

“I told you Emma you’ve bewitched me, and I mean that as a compliment, love. You’re the first person since her, since my Milah, that I could see myself with. And I know it sounds crazy and bizarre, we barely know each other, this is only our second real conversation. I wanted to tell you, no I needed to tell you. Also, his isn’t tit for tat, so please don’t feel pressured to share anything, love.” Killian broke their embrace, and looked Emma in the eyes to convey his point. She merely nodded, and this time she leaned into his arms. A few minutes went by when she finally spoke up. 

“I was - am, an orphan. My parents left me on the side of a road the night I was born. Some kid found me and brought me into this diner. I bounced around from home to home, never staying in one place for too long. If I found a family, it didn’t last long. They realized they’d rather have a shiny new baby instead of some teenager with a shitty attitude. When I finally had enough I ran and that’s when I met him, Neal.”

Killian tightened his hold on Emma; she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “He was a few years older; I met him when I tried to steal his already stolen bug. I thought he was like me, he said he didn’t have a family and we just clicked. We went on to do some petty theft, but we never stole more than what we needed. He promised me a future, our future, and when you come from nothing, with no one, it sounded good. Anyway, turns out he was wanted for some watches he stole a while back. He said he needed to lay low for a while, and I didn’t want to lose him, so I came up with this stupid plan. I went and picked up the watches from this locker, but when I went to meet him, the cops showed up. I ended up doing a short stint in juvie. After-”

“Wait, are you telling me he let you take the fall for the watches?” Killian released Emma, his jaw was clenched again, and she could see hatred and disgust in his eyes. Before she could panic that it was all directed at her, he quickly embraced her and soothed her. 

“I just can’t believe this coward would do that to you, love. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“It’s okay, well not really, but it’s okay now. I’ve made peace with it, sort of, besides I have my friends now, they’ve become my family.”

“I was right.”

“About what, Jones?” 

Killian pulled away and smiled for the first time in a while, “You’re a tough lass. ” Emma bit her bottom lip, but a small smile still spread across her face. 

Emma realized how close they were now, she could feel the heat radiating off his body. Her eyes shifted between Killian’s and his lips. She didn’t want to be the first one to initiate the second kiss, still scared she crossed a line with that first one. Killian in a painfully slow manner leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. 

Both started slowly, not sure where the line was, and neither wishing to cross it. Emma felt Killian’s hands all over her body, reminding Emma of her dream. As he kissed his way down her neck, Emma knew that she was done for. It was at that moment Emma trailed her hands down his chest, she heard him let out a small gasp. 

Before she knew it Emma was straddling Killian, she could feel his erection through his confining jeans. Emma wanted more, after months of longing she was finally with Mr. 5- No. She was with Killian Jones. She had never been kissed like this before, with such raw passion. Emma was kiss drunk from him, practically forgetting where she was until he pulled back.

“Emma, love, wait. We can’t.” Emma’s walls shot back up at the rejection. After she had told that story, he was just going to fucking leave her? “Wait, wait love, I see the wheels turning in your head. That isn’t what I meant. I want you Emma, if that part wasn’t obvious enough.” He raised his hips into hers so Emma could feel how effected he truly was.

“I want to do this right, love, I want to court you properly. I want to show you how truly treasured and special you are. How about Saturday?” Emma had hid her head into his shoulder; no one had ever said something like that to her before. For the first time in a while, Emma Swan was truly speechless. 

“Is that okay, love?” He looked at her as if she were the moon and stars combined. Gone was the sexy man she was still straddling, and in his place was a gentleman, ducking his head in shy timidity. Emma placed her hand under his chin and lifted his head up to meet her eyes. 

“Aye.” She threw a wink his way and he covered his mouth because he laughed so hard. She knew he had a glorious laugh, but being the cause of his joy was priceless. Then realization hit her, Emma was still on Killian’s lap. She knew that one more kiss was out of the question, and Killian must’ve read her mind for he helped her move back into her own seat.

After their emotionally charged evening Killian walked Emma to her door, he leaned down and pressed one quick kiss on her lips. He said the kiss was a promise of what was to come after Saturday. He bowed and returned back to his door but not without turning around and throwing a smirk over his shoulder. Emma bit down on her lip laughing at the man who had seamlessly started to break down her walls. 

Emma was thankful she had remembered to text Mary Margaret before going over to Killian’s, but that didn’t stop her friend from blowing up her phone, again. 

(8:38 pm) MM: Sorry tonight was a bust, hopefully you can get him next week. 

(8:59 pm) MM: Oh by the way, I have off tomorrow! SNOW DAY!!!! Can I come over tomorrow before your date?

(9:23 pm) MM: Emma Swan, are you with Mr. 521 again? You go girl, I expect full details tomorrow. Love you xoxo

Emma texted Mary Margaret back, she looked forward to spending some time with her friend during the impending snow day. But then the guilt filled her. Emma had long forgotten about her date with Mr. One Shot. 

After a nearly sleepless night of endless tossing and turning Emma woke up to a knock at the door. She felt disgusted, hiding something so trivial from Killian. The date tonight meant nothing, no one was going to stop Emma from seeing what this was with Killian. She knew this, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she was supposed to spend the evening with another man tonight. 

When Emma opened the door, she found a very cute and well put together Mary Margaret. Emma was confused on why she had even bothered knocking; in fact, she had a spare key since Emma moved here.

“I know you; I knew you would still be asleep. Plus, I didn’t know if there would be any...guests when I arrived.” The cheshire cat grin that overtook Mary Margaret’s faced had Emma believe that she had been waiting to say that since last night. 

“For your information, mom, we simply talked last night and he walked me to my door like a perfect gentlemen. M’s don’t give me that look!” Mary Margaret didn’t buy the charade for a second, she could tell Emma was downplaying the evening.

“Fine, I won’t push, yet. But I am curious of how you two all the sudden went from nothing to whatever is happening?” Mary Margaret made herself at home curling up in the lazy boy she had claimed as her spot since Emma moved.

“I honestly don’t even know really. On Tuesday he saved me twice from falling, it really wasn’t anything special. After I came home we talked…” Emma got lost in thought, thinking of everything the two of them had already shared in such a short time. She remembered then where everything had led them last night - her sitting on his lap. A quick blush crept across her face, a telltale sign Mary Margaret had obviously seen. Her friend, however, decided to show mercy and sipped her coffee instead. 

“Oh! And he saw me in my dress for my pick up, you should’ve seen his face though! He thought I was going on an actual date!”

“So does he know about tonight?” Emma’s excitement retreated, as did her heart as it dropped from her chest. “Oh, Emma, you didn’t tell him? Why?” Mary Margaret had moved from her spot to comfort Emma who was still standing at the island leaning on it for support. 

“Honestly? I forgot all about the date tonight until I got home and read your texts. His phone broke the other day and I haven’t saved his number and we...we got sidetracked last night.” Emma finally looked up to find her friend still smiling, somehow. 

“I don’t think I have ever seen you like this, so smitten. I’m happy for you, Emma.” The friends had a quick embrace and moved on from the subject. Emma was forever thankful that her friend knew she would tell her everything once she was ready, whenever that would be. 

The two enjoyed the snow day, Mary Margaret shared stories of her students and how David and the rest of the police station were doing. Emma could tell Mary Margaret tried her best to keep Emma’s mind from wandering about the date she had tonight. Mary Margaret had made them a late lunch when Emma finally spoke up about it.

“M’s? I’m still gonna go on the date tonight you know.” Her friend kept her back turned towards the stove as Emma continued. “I know you set this up out of love, and I promised you I wouldn’t back out. I’m still 100% interested in Mr. 521, but I would never break our promises. Can you just tell the guy that? That I am flattered to be spending the evening with him, but I can’t commit to anyone else?”

When Mary Margaret turned around she had tears in her eyes, Emma had been around long enough to know those were tears of joy. Mary Margaret merely nodded to her friend; she tried to downplay this monumental shift for her. Emma Swan was not a woman of commitment, especially with a guy she hadn’t even been on a date with yet, but Emma had a feeling that Killian was worth the change. 

Mary Margaret decided to head home early, the snowstorm waged outside made her commute less than ideal now. 

After she left, Emma decided it was time to get ready for her non-date blind date. When Emma sat down on her bed, she no longer felt the stress ridden guilt she had this morning. She knew why - she had finally been honest about her feelings for Killian, just as he’d been last night with her. 

Due to the nature of this date being more or less an actual Emma Swan date, she decided to go with a dress that was more Emma. She went with a pink dress; this one had no formal name because she never wore it at work. It was rare when Emma let her feminine side out, but she knew this was the perfect dress for tonight. This dress was walls down, girly, and soft. Emma decided to go with a simple ponytail and minimal makeup to complete her look. 

When Emma opened her door and looked across the way to see Killian’s lights off she let out a breath of relief. She might know her intentions with tonight, but she would be remorsed if she upset Killian again. 

Wrapped in her marshmallow jacket, Emma made her way outside of the apartment building. Screw fashion, it’s a fucking blizzard outside, she thought. Right as she stepped into the cold, she saw him - Killian. It looked like he had just beaten Emma downstairs; he was heading in the same direction as she was. 

Emma enjoyed her view of his backside, even bundled up he still had this swagger to him that was mesmerizing. The urge to not upset him was outweighed by the possibility of talking to him. Emma decided to give his name a holler, which of course was the worst thing to do in the middle of a snowstorm.

As Killian turned around and saw Emma, his face went from pure joy to terror as he started to slip. Emma tried to run over and grab him, but she ended up falling herself.

“Shit! Killian I’m so sorry I’m such a klutz! Are you - oh god you’re bleeding!!” Killian brought his hand up to his eyebrow; he must’ve felt the cut even in the cold.

“I’m okay, lass, truly. Are you alright?” She was about to answer him, that was until she saw how slow he was to get up. He grabbed his side, which had to be tender from the impact. He tried to walk in the direction they were going in, but hadn’t let go of his side since he stood up.

“Killian? You are hurt. Come on, we’re going back to my place.”

“Oh so forward, you little minx.” Emma huffed and rolled her eyes at Killian who unconsciously licked his lips as he looked at her.

“You’re awful chipper for a guy with some bruised ribs.”

“Ah, that must be why it hurts when I laugh.” Killian tried to throw on his best smile, but Emma could tell that he was in pain. Thankfully, they were only a block away from their apartment building. 

It wasn’t until they made their way into the elevator that Emma realized they were holding hands. She looked down at their joined hands and reveled in the fact that their fingers intertwined so perfectly. When Emma looked at Killian a small smile fought through the pain, Emma could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

When they made their way into Emma’s apartment, she ushered him to the couch so he could lay down. She quickly found the Tylenol in her cabinet and brought it over to Killian. Emma started to clean his cut, which was, as Emma predicted, superficial. 

“What the hell were you doing out in this storm, Killian?” 

“Concerned, are we Swan? I could ask you the same question.” Emma pretended like she was about to grab his ribs, which made him jump out of his skin almost. “Oi! Swan, that’s bad form to tease a defenseless man. Just remember turnabout's fair game, love.” 

They sat there for a few moments in silence while Emma tended to his wound. Emma could feel Killian’s eyes drilling a hole into her head. He never took his eyes off her. 

“I am sorry love; I didn’t mean to ruin your night for you. Hopefully you can go catch this bloke soon.”

“What?”

“You’re dressed up again, love. You only seem to do that when you have to go catch a skip.” Emma had tried to avoid this all day, she drew her lips into a thin line as he continued. “This dress however seems more you than any of the other ones though, if I may speak so freely.” Emma turned away from him, she held back her tears. “What is it, love? Emma, I’m sorry if I crossed a line there, I just wanted to remind you how breathtaking you are.”

The silence fell between them for a few moments longer. Emma sat on her coffee table as Killian still sprawled out on her couch. “Do you promise not to get mad at me?” Emma didn’t dare make eye contact with him, she began fidgeting with the rag she had used to clean his cut. 

“Aye, love. You have my word.” 

“There’s just something I need to do first. Okay?”

After Killian nodded, Emma went back to the island to grab her phone to call Mary Margaret. Emma snuck back to her bedroom and left Killian lounging on the couch. Her heart raced, Emma knew this conversation was not going to be an easy one.

“Emma, why are you calling me?” Emma couldn’t tell if Mary Margaret was annoyed or concerned by the fact that Emma called her.

“M’s..I can’t go tonight.”

“Emma you prom - it’s Mr. 521. Are you with him now?”

“Yes I am. We were both walking out when he fell; I brought him up here to help take care of his cut. I’m sorry, but I need to cancel.”

“I get it, I do. To be honest he wanted to cancel tonight too, something about fighting for what he wants and getting what he deserves, I don’t know.”

“Well, that makes me feel a little bit better. Can I have his number, please? I feel as though I should be the one to call and cancel.”

“Sure, I’ll text it to you right now. Oh and say hi to Mr. 521 for me!”

“Ha, yeah I’ll make sure to tell Killian all about you.” Emma heard her friend gasp, and was sure that she also heard Mary Margaret swear under her breath. “M’s? You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, sweetie, I just… dropped something. Have fun with Killian.” Mary Margaret hung up before Emma could interrogate her further. Emma peaked her head out and saw Killian sitting up. Quickly she dialed Mr. One Shot’s number when she heard ringing in the background. It almost sounded like Killian’s phone was ringing.

“Swan? Why are you calling me, love, when I’m right here? Also, how did you get my number?”

No. It couldn’t be. 

Emma stepped in front of her door and walked into the living room, her phone still pressed against her ear, kept ringing. Killian waited for her response, not understanding why Emma was so baffled at the moment. 

“Mamma Maria.” That’s all Emma could get out. Killian’s smile dropped for a moment. It took him a moment, but then he finally realized.

“Swan? Is that where you were heading tonight?” Emma was still in shock. 

Mr. 521/Mr. One Shot/Killian Jones were all the same man. Killian jumped up from his seated position to run over to her. Emma was scared of what his reaction would be, she had kept this from him, but so did he. When she finally looked him in the eyes she saw it - hope.

“I was hoping it’d be you.” Without any hesitation, Emma grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. She kissed the holy hell out of him. It only took Killian a moment to realize what was happening before he reacted. This kiss, somehow, was filled with more passion than the previous nights. Killian’s rough hands roamed around Emma’s body and she bit his lip.

“Shit, Killian your ribs… we shouldn’t…” Emma could barely speak as Killian kissed the spot under ear. Killian pulled away for a moment, gone were his crystal blue eyes, all Emma saw was the haze of lust. Then he bit his lip and a cheeky smile appeared.

“Would you be mad love if I told you I faked it? I didn’t want to go on this date, I wanted an excuse out of it, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?” Emma furthered the gap between the two of him, but still had her fingers clenched down on his shirt. Her eyes were wide as she waited in anticipation for his response. 

“Don’t you know Emma? It’s you, I only want you.” Emma was touched, she could see the tears clouding Killian’s eyes, or maybe they were her own tears. They brought their foreheads together and slowly leaned in for another kiss. 

This kiss was filled with promise, with hope. Emma could feel it now, and this time it wasn’t a dream. 

Emma was successful in removing Killian’s vest, but got distracted in unbuttoning his shirt, which she blamed on the way Killian was kissing his way down the column of her neck and sucking on her pulse point. 

Emma could feel the tension growing between her thighs, she needed him. After some assistance, Killian’s shirt was finally off and Emma explored his chest. She was right, he made chest hair sexy. As she kissed down his chest, she could hear his breaths growing unsteady, and he gasped when Emma ran her hand over his hardening member.

Suddenly, Emma was on her knees in front of Killian unzipping his pants. Deciding to tease him for a moment longer, Emma kept his boxers on and kissed him through the layer. 

“Emma, please…don’t tease…” Heeding his request, Emma stripped him of his last item of clothing. When she pulled his boxers down his cock sprang free, and Emma tried not to let his size intimidate her. 

She started slow, kissing the tip, tasting the precome as she wrapped her lips around him and began her ministrations in earnest. Killian leaned back against the sofa, trying to keep his balance. Emma felt his right hand tangle within her hair as he guided her pace. 

“Fuck, Emma...that mouth..”

Emma only hummed in response while still working him over with her mouth, she could tell from his strained moans and gasps that her efforts were having their desired effect. She pumped him with one hand while keeping the other on his thigh and felt him tense.

“Please Emma, I don’t...fuck...I don’t want to come like...bloody hell woman! I don’t want to come like this.” With a pop, Emma released Killian from her mouth showing him some mercy.

“And how do you want to come, Mr. Jones?” Emma’s voice was deeper, sexier than anything she had ever heard before. Killian’s eyes snapped open and he gazed down at her.   
Lust. That’s all that was in his eyes. Gone was any shade of blue, Killian’s eyes were black and full of sin.

Killian pulled Emma up from her kneeling position, and spun her around. Emma could feel him, he wasn’t touching her, but the heating radiating off his body was overpowering. Meticulously, Killian unzipped Emma’s dress. He kissed the new skin exposed every inch of the way.

Emma, now only in her heels and thong, turned back around to face Killian. He stared in awe of the beauty that was in front of him, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. 

Killian pressed in, his hands gripping her in an attempt to close the sparse distance between them, and then lifted her into his arms eliminating any further divide. Emma wrapped her legs around Killian, trying to create any friction to relieve the desire that ached between her thighs.

“God, I can feel how wet you are, Swan. Fuck, tell me this isn’t a dream.” 

“Back...to the right.” Emma wasn’t sure if she had actually said anything, her mind in a fuzzy haze. Emma pulled away, for a moment, she could hear Killian’s whine as she did so. “My bedroom, Killian.” 

The mood shifted, and it was clear to Emma that one taste of Killian would never be enough. She kept her legs wrapped around him as he walked them back to her room. Distracted by her kisses Killian bumped into the walls, taking the brunt of the impacts. When they made it to the bedroom, he gracefully laid her on the bed.

Emma shimmied her way up the bed, gazing upon the man she has no doubt was about to ravish her. Killian stood there licking his lips when he finally broke the silence.

“In you,” Killian purred, then clarified after taking in Emma’s confused look “You asked how I wanted to come, and I want to come in you, Emma Swan. Is that alright?” Emma nodded, not trusting her voice enough to actually speak. He looked at her like a hunter stalking his prey as he moved to hover over her. 

He found her lips, but only stayed there for a moment before he kissed down her body towards her breasts. As he kissed one, he kneaded the other making her nipple hard. Emma moaned and reached down to her entrance, but Killian swatted her hand away. 

“No, patience darling. I promise, by the time I’m done with you... well let’s just say when I jab you with my sword you’ll feel it.” 

Killian continued his path down Emma’s body, mimicking the journey she’d taken while exploring on him. Emma’s body tensed, the anticipation both driving her mad and fueling her for more. She wanted, no, she needed more.

Killian seemed to read her mind, pulling her thong down with his teeth. With the last barrier between them finally removed, Killian kissed her soaking core. He then gave one long lick, meeting her gaze when he reached the top of her clit. Emma had never been a fan of this act, but when she saw the hunger in his eyes she had a feeling that opinion would change. 

Emma had never felt pleasure like this before, his mouth made her quiver. Every time Emma thought, she was going to fall over the edge Killian paused. Fucking asshole. 

Pausing once more, Killian removed his mouth and he replaced it with his fingers. Emma gasped in surprise, with a death grip on the sheets. She tried to stifle the screams, but Killian begged her to not hold back. 

“Please Killian…”

“Please what, Swan?” Emma’s eyes were closed, but she knew he had that damn smirk all over his face. 

“I need you, please.”

“Aye, and you shall have me. It’s just...do we…need anything?” 

Emma was in awe of the man, who one moment could be commanding with her body and the next be adorably nervous when asking if they needed protection. 

“Clean bill of health,” she answered, pulling him back up her body, “and I’m on the pill.” 

“I’m clean, love...there hasn’t been anyone since…” Emma put her finger to his lips, and kissed him. As Killian lined himself up, Emma anticipated the burn and stretch she’d feel having have him inside of her. 

He slowly entered her, allowing her time to adjust to his size. For a brief moment, they gazed into each other’s eyes, then Killian moved with purpose.

They found their rhythm quickly; Killian went deeper and faster with each thrust. Emma’s back arched as he continued to drive into her. Sweat beaded along his forehead, and the only noise bouncing off the walls were their moans. 

“You’re so beautiful, Emma, a goddess.” Emma could barely process her own thoughts, let alone Killian’s confessed comments. “I’ve never seen a creature as captivating as you are, love.”

Emma had never had a man, really anyone, so enamored by her before. Bolstered by the new confidence he gave her, she flipped them so he was laying on his back with her astride him. It was her turn to set the pace.

“Emma, love. Tell me... god… tell me you’re close.” 

“I’m so close, Killian.” Emma’s nails raked down his chest, he would have marks there tomorrow, but she had a feeling she’d be marked too, and she didn’t give a damn.

“Together. Aye, love? Let go for me, Emma. I’ll catch you. I promise, let go.” 

With his encouragement, Emma fell over the precipice of the peak of her desire calling out his name. As her walls tightened around Killian’s cock, his release came soon after her’s. 

As they laid there, catching their breath Emma turned over and looked at Killian. His bangs fell across his forehead making him appear much younger and softer. Gone was the idea of Mr. 521, here was a man Emma liked, and honestly a man she was falling in love with. Emma continued to stare at him with awe and wonder as Killian met her gaze.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Emma?”

“Who says there’s anything going on? What if I’m just basking in the afterglow?” It was a defense mechanism of hers, deflecting and getting the other person off track. Killian’s features softened as he brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them.

“You don’t have to do that, Emma. You don’t have to hide. Besides, you’re a bit of an open book, love. I can tell there’s something stewing in that mind of yours. Let’s be having ya?” Killian laid there, carelessly dragging his fingers around her back, and waited for her to say something.

“I was just thinking… I feel bad that Mary Margaret went to the trouble of getting us that reservation and we cancelled. I hope her friend that she had that in with isn’t too upset with her.”

“Right, well I happen to know he would be very pleased with how the night went instead.” A smirk ticked at the corner of his mouth.

“And how would you know that, Mr. Jones?” 

“I’m the friend.” Emma’s mouth dropped open at his words before he continued, “Well, when you happen to be one of the owners, and the head chef, you can move somethings around to work in your favor, love.” 

“But you… you made it sound like you hated your job. If you own the place and you hate it, why stay?” Emma turned on her side to face Killian, and he draped his arm over her, to pull her close .

“I didn’t lie, love. There’s an amazing dive bar just a few blocks north of us, just for the record. The restaurant was my father’s; he left it to me after he passed. Turned out after he left Liam and I he came here to the States to try and be a better man. I used to just manage it from afar; I wanted to make something more of the place and myself.”

“Well, I think you’ve done a pretty damn good job.” Killian leaned in for another kiss. Before things could escalate, further their stomachs interrupted them. 

“Come on, Swan. Let’s go make something. I believe I owe you a dinner, darling.” 

“I already told you, I can’t cook.” 

“Aye, but I think we could make quite the team, Emma.”

Emma knew he wasn’t just talking about cooking.


End file.
